Prosaic

Prosaic (pronounced proh-zey-ik)

(1) Of writing or speaking, straightforward; matter-of-fact; lacking the feeling or elegance of poetry.

(2) Something commonplace or dull; matter-of-fact or unimaginative; overly plain, simple or commonplace, to the point of being boring.

(3) Of or having the character or form of prose, the ordinary form of spoken or written language, rather than of poetry (now of technical use only).

1650-1660: From the fifteenth century Middle French prosaïque and directly from the sixteenth century Medieval Latin prōsaicus (in prose), from the Classical Latin prōsa (prose), from prorsus (straightforward, in prose), from the Old Latin provorus (straight ahead), the construct being pro- (forward) + vorsus (turned), from vertō (to turn), from the primitive Indo-European wer- (to turn, to bend).  The original meaning was technical, distinguishing text as prose rather than poetry and in this sense was usually written as prosaicus (in prose).  The first hints of literary hierarchy were first noted in French in 1746 when used to contrast the “character” of prose in contrast to the “feeling” of poetry.  The sense of describing something ordinary or mundane first seen in French in 1813, a meaning soon adopted in English.  Prosaic & prosaical are adjectives, prosify is a verb, prosified & prosifying are verbs & adjectives, prosaicness is a noun and prosaically is an adverb.

Figurative use of poetic & prosaic:  Jaguar E-Type (XK-E, 1961-1974) (left) & Jaguar XJ-S (1975-1996) (right).  "Poetry in motion" is a cliché but when the E-Type first was seen, that was the phrase some journalists chose.

Whether Enzo Ferrari (1898-1988) ever called the E-Type "the most beautiful car in the world" remains uncertain (though he certainly never issued a denial) but over the decades plenty have echoed the sentiment, sometimes using the phrase "poetry in motion".  By 1975, the world had changed and there were now rules with which to comply and although the XJ-S (later XJS) wasn't really a replacement for the E-Type, because of the timing, that was the basis on may of the early reports based at least some of their critique.  Dynamically, on about any objective measure, it was a better car than the E-Type but nobody is known to have claimed it was better looking and in some contemporary reviews, the styling was described as "prosaic".  It might have been more accurate to use the word "pragmatic" and the lines perhaps aged better than many at the time anticipated, the car in (almost) continuous production for over twenty years and the platform endured until 2006, providing the underpinnings for the first generation of Jaguar's XK8 (1996-2005) and the Aston Martin DB7 (1997-2004), both of which looked better than the XJ-S although neither matched the timeless E-Type.

1983 Jaguar XJ-S Lynx Eventer shooting brake.

What many regard as the best-looking XJS version were the "shooting brakes" (a kind of station wagon) made by specialist coach-builders, the best-known of which was the Lynx Eventer, 67 of which were made.  Critics at the time noted the rear treatment rendered a better balanced shape and much the same observation was made of the convertible (1988-1996) version (less so the SC "cabriolet" (1983-1988)).  Although the pre-war shooting brakes often were built for the HFS (hunting, fishing & shooting) set who needed space for shotguns, fishing rods, hunting hounds and such, in the 1980s they emerged in the niche of the "horsey" set although there was obviously appeal for those who liked the image even if they never sat in a saddle.  In naming the Eventer, Lynx may have had in mind the sport of "eventing", an equestrian sport in which a single horse & rider compete against others across the three disciplines of dressage, cross-country, and show jumping, the roots in the drills European armies conducted to ensure officers seeking a commission in the cavalry possessed the requisite skills.  Eventing has a reasonably impressive death toll of both riders and beasts but it continues to exert a pull with women especially drawn; that's not surprising because some girls fall in love with horses at pony club and never quite recover.

1986 "Daimler S Design Study".

The shooting brake coachwork eliminated the buttresses that were the design's most distinctive feature and interestingly, they were sacrificed also when the factory in 1986 undertook a “design-study” for a proposed "luxury version", to be sold as the “Daimler S”.  The shape was judged most pleasing, unlike the “Coupé” version of the Jensen Interceptor (1966-1976), a reputed 60 of which were built in 1975-1976.  Without the dramatically expansive rear window (nicknamed "the fishbowl"), the design didn't please many and it was later revealed that, struggling to recover from the mid-1970s recession and collapse in demand for big, thirsty cars (both a consequence of the first oil shock), the company had exhausted their supply of closed body shells so "cobbled together" a top to be attached to some of remaining convertible (1974-1976) bodies awaiting completion.  That's may account for why it looked like something of a design college project that may (generously) have been graded a "C-" but, approaching bankruptcy, Jensen was in its death throes.

The original Jensen Interceptor (1966-1976, left) "saloon" and the hastily improvised Coupé (1975-1976, right).  The vinyl glued to the roof didn't help and it was a difficult time for the dying company but Jaguar's execution of the same concept (add a roof to a convertible) on the one-off Daimler S was more accomplished.  Verging on the brutish, nobody ever called the Interceptor's lines "poetic" but the appeal has endured and even today there are companies offering "refurbishment packages" including modern power-trains and electronics.

One thing the Daimler S had in common with the unfortunate Interceptor Coupé was the project being relatively cheap to execute because much of the engineering work had already been done in creating open versions (a full convertible by Jensen; the “SC” version of the XJS with a Triumph Stag-like fixture atop).  Sales of the XJ-S SC were sufficiently encouraging for a team to be formed to produce a conventional convertible, one aspect of the project a removable hard-top (always a factory option for the smaller E-Type).  Because of the sheer size (and consequently weight) of such a structure, that proved unviable but, the styling done, the idea of a “notchback coupé” was explored, the “Daimler” brand available to enable the thing to be sold at a higher price.  The prototype Daimler S required more than welding on the aborted hard-top but not much more, the main differences the different rear-side windows and fluted fittings on the grill & trunk (boot) lid trim.  The planned interior fit-out (a more lavish use of timber veneers, carpet & leather) was never fitted to the prototype and wilder thoughts in the engineering office included AWD (all-wheel drive) but none of the speculation ever even reached the drawing boards.  The one-off Daimler S did get as far as US focus groups for "market reaction" to be assessed but it had the misfortune of being displayed with a prototype XJ-S convertible and while the response to the coupé was polite, the convertible was received with an enthusiasm matched by the US dealer network, none of whom needed a focus group to tell them where demand lay.  While the lines of neither the Lynx Eventer or Daimler S would be likely to attract the epithet "poetic", both shapes improved on the original.  

Prosaic is an example of the figurative adoption of a word with a precise technical meaning assuming such popularity that the original sense became relegated to specialists.  Once, any text not poetic was “prosaic” (ie “written in prose”), and this description denoted nothing negative; it was just a way of distinguishing between written forms, reflecting prosaic’s origins in the Latin prosa (prose).  However, by the seventeen century, poetry had come to be regarded as a most superior form of expression, considered more beautiful, imaginative, and emotional, prose relegated to the status of the mundane and procedural.  The figurative use evolved from this and prosaic came to be used to refer to anything thought ordinary or unimaginative including music, ideas, architecture, Jaguars etc.  The adjective thus transformed into a synonym for "colorless, drab, lifeless, lacklustre, humdrum, dull, pedestrian, unimaginative" etc and this resulted in phrases which once would have been thought bizarre or tautological: “prosaic poetry” & “prosaic prose”.  In its original technical sense (distinguishing the style of writing used for poetry from other literature), the word is now rarely used other than by those somewhere in the "literature business" and, even there, use can be challenging because of the implications of the modern sense(s).  Still, for those who wish to emphasise certain bad texts are worse even than others, the comparative is "more prosaic" and the superlative, "most prosaic".

Dylan Thomas (1914–1953, left) and his wife Caitlin Thomas (née Macnamara; 1913-1994, right) in the bar of Brown’s Hotel, Laugharne, Wales, 1938.

As the origin in the Latin prosa or pronersa oratio (straightforward discourse) suggests, “prose” is the language in its direct, unadorned form, flowing in the way of style(s) written or spoken in everyday life.  It differs from poetry or verse in not being restricted in rhythm, measure or rhyme although, in literary theory, there exists also “poetic prose” and the “prose poem”.  Literary theory however has, in the last sixty years-odd, constructed a large and sometimes bewildering array of technical terms and categories and the possible number of distinct prose forms may be close to limitless.  Poetic prose is prose which approximates to verse in the use of rhythm (perhaps even a kind of meter) in the elaborate and ornate use of language, and especially in the use of figurative devices like onomatopoeia, assonance and metaphor.  Except in experimental form, poetic prose usually is deployed only as a literary device, appearing in short works or in brief passages in longer pieces in order to achieve a (not always entirely clear) specific effect although the common element seems to be something like “an elevation of the emotional temperature”.  Authors interpolating passages of poetic prose have included Thomas De Quincey (1785–1859, best known for his Confessions of an English Opium-Eater (1821)), Herman Melville (1819–1891), Arthur Rimbaud (1854–1891), James Joyce (1882–1941, whose use of poetic prose wasn’t always immediately accessible), Virginia Woolf (1882–1941) and William Faulkner (1897–1962).  Classic examples of the “hybrid form” are sectionsof the narrator’s narrative in the radio play Under Milk Wood (1952) by Dylan Thomas (1914–1953).

The Collected Prose of T.S. Eliot (2024), in four volumes, edited by Archie Burnett.

A prose poem is a composition printed as prose but distinguished by elements common in poetry, such as often elaborately contrived rhythms, figures of speech, rhyme, internal rhyme, assonance, consonance and startling imagery.  In academic use, it’s the tragic and only posthumously recognized French proto-symbolist Aloysius Bertrand (pen name of Louis Jacques Napoléon Bertrand, 1807-1841) who is acknowledged as having introduced prose poetry to French writing and, more that others, it was him who (retrospectively) made it a fashionable sub-genre among the avant-garde, the seminal work being Gaspard de la Nuit-Fantaisies à la manière de Rembrandt et de Callot (Gaspard of the Night-Fantasies in the Manner of Rembrandt and Callot, 1842), a collection of fantasies in the manner of the Dutch painter Rembrandt (Rembrandt Harmenszoon van Rijn; 1606-1669) and Jacques Callot (circa 1592–1635, a printmaker in the baroque style, born in the then independent Duchy of Lorraine).  Although it was the intricacy of the ornate and rhythmical language that contributed to the recognition of the prose poem as a literary form, upon publication, it made little impact and only later became influential though for more than a century it remained neglected in English.  When French critics finally took notice, the initial spread of the work owed much to the dazzling images, a number of which were, by the standards of the age, monumentally grotesque.  The influence on the French poet, essayist, translator and art critic Charles Baudelaire (1821–1867) was obvious in his Le Spleen de Paris (Paris Spleen, 1869 and better known by its subsequent title Petits Poèmes en prose (Little Poems in Prose)), a collection of 50 short prose poems and one of the building blocks of literary modernism.  The symbolist poets and surrealists also acknowledged a debt, as did T. S. Eliot (1888–1965) although his fork of modernism was so striking it seems almost unfair much to dwell on the precursors.

Lindsay Lohan, a poem by Amber Tambling, from the collection Dark Sparkler (2015).

Actress and author Amber Tamblyn (b 1983) solved the writer's dilemma about whether to handle the subject of Lindsay Lohan in prose or poetry by using no text at all.  The publisher HarperCollins described her third collection Dark Sparkler (2015) as a “…hybrid of poetry and art exploring the lives and deaths of actresses who began their careers as child stars.”  The book, which included original artwork by a number of artists, was well received, critically and commercially.  The title was well-chosen because Dark Sparkler was a catalogue of murder and suicide but what attracted much comment was the inclusion of one living soul: Lindsay Lohan, her entry (on page 47) blank but for her name as the title.  An author’s relationship ultimately is with their readers but first it’s with their critics and the response to that one proved it’s possible to deconstruct text even when it doesn’t appear.  As the postmodernists explained, even a blank page is "text" to be deconstructed to find meaning and should the conclusion be there is "no meaning", that too is "a meaning".  Whether fashionable or not, postmodernism made a contribution to literary criticism and remains available for readers to take from it what they will.  Some of the critical reaction to Ms Tambling's Lindsay Lohan was something in vein of those who approached John Cage’s (1912–1992) 4:33 (1952) in that, without much with which to work, the only obvious question seemed to be “What did you mean?”  Ms Tamblyn did say she found it “upsetting” when, after reading several of the poems dedicated to starlets who died young, she spoke the words “Lindsay Lohan” and the audience laughed; perhaps, in the age of the TikTokers she’d not now be surprised.  The poet claimed the inclusion of the piece in its unusual form was not to say “you’re next” but explicitly to avoid writing anything about a life in progress, the idea being Ms Lohan’s life was her own story to write.  Like any work of prose or poetry, page 47 was there for people to take from it what they found but presumably, the interpretative range might be wider than for those reading something like John Keats’ (1795-1821) ode To Autumn (1820).

The Tay Bridge Disaster

William Topaz McGonagall (circa 1825–1902) was a Scottish poet of Irish ancestry, now acknowledged as perhaps the worst poet ever to have been published in English, a fair achievement given the wealth of modern competition.  His best known work remains The Tay Bridge Disaster (1880), lamenting the disaster of 28 December, 1879 when, during a severe gale, the central section of Dundee's Tay Rail Bridge collapsed, sending to their deaths in the freezing water the 80-odd souls aboard the Wormit-Dundee train passing at the time.  Regarded during its brief existence as a triumph of Victorian (1837-1901) engineering, the Tay Rail Bridge was nearly two miles (3.2 km) long and then the longest in the world but it had been built with an insufficient allowance for lateral wind-load, the structure that night succumbing to the gale-force winds estimated at 80 mph (130 km/h, 70 knots).  An enquiry was conducted and the designer, Sir Thomas Bouch (1822-1880) (dubbed a Knight Bachelor at Windsor Castle on 26 June, 1879 by Victoria (1819–1901; Queen of the UK 1837-1901) in recognition of the quick and economic construction of the bridge) was found for primarily responsible for the disaster.  His health suffered as a consequence of the event and within a year of the collapse, he was dead.

The Tay Bridge after the collapse (National Library of Scotland image).

Whether the The Tay Bridge Disaster can be said to be prosaic is debatable because there are probably better adjectives but critics have long been united that it's a very bad piece of poetry and it's doubtful a re-rendering in prose would be much of an improvement, one writing of it that McGonagall was “deaf to poetic metaphor, employing inappropriate rhythms that resulted in unintentionally amusing poetry.”  Said to be wholly oblivious to the invective almost universally directed to his oeuvre of over two-hundred pieces of verse, his sheer awfulness and tenacity caused him to be remembered to this day for at least something while countless poets who were merely earnest and competent are long forgotten.

The Tay Bridge Disaster by William McGonagall

Beautiful Railway Bridge of the Silv’ry Tay!
Alas! I am very sorry to say
That ninety lives have been taken away
On the last Sabbath day of 1879,
Which will be remember’d for a very long time.
 
’Twas about seven o’clock at night,
And the wind it blew with all its might,
And the rain came pouring down,
And the dark clouds seem’d to frown,
And the Demon of the air seem’d to say-
“I’ll blow down the Bridge of Tay.”
 
When the train left Edinburgh
The passengers’ hearts were light and felt no sorrow,
But Boreas blew a terrific gale,
Which made their hearts for to quail,
And many of the passengers with fear did say-
“I hope God will send us safe across the Bridge of Tay.”
 
But when the train came near to Wormit Bay,
Boreas he did loud and angry bray,
And shook the central girders of the Bridge of Tay
On the last Sabbath day of 1879,
Which will be remember’d for a very long time.
 
So the train sped on with all its might,
And Bonnie Dundee soon hove in sight,
And the passengers’ hearts felt light,
Thinking they would enjoy themselves on the New Year,
With their friends at home they lov’d most dear,
And wish them all a happy New Year.
 
So the train mov’d slowly along the Bridge of Tay,
Until it was about midway,
Then the central girders with a crash gave way,
And down went the train and passengers into the Tay!
The Storm Fiend did loudly bray,
Because ninety lives had been taken away,
On the last Sabbath day of 1879,
Which will be remember’d for a very long time.
 
As soon as the catastrophe came to be known
The alarm from mouth to mouth was blown,
And the cry rang out all o’er the town,
Good Heavens! the Tay Bridge is blown down,
And a passenger train from Edinburgh,
Which fill’d all the peoples hearts with sorrow,
And made them for to turn pale,
Because none of the passengers were sav’d to tell the tale
How the disaster happen’d on the last Sabbath day of 1879,
Which will be remember’d for a very long time.
 
It must have been an awful sight,
To witness in the dusky moonlight,
While the Storm Fiend did laugh, and angry did bray,
Along the Railway Bridge of the Silv’ry Tay,
Oh! ill-fated Bridge of the Silv’ry Tay,
I must now conclude my lay
By telling the world fearlessly without the least dismay,
That your central girders would not have given way,
At least many sensible men do say,
Had they been supported on each side with buttresses,
At least many sensible men confesses,
For the stronger we our houses do build,
The less chance we have of being killed.

Mainline

Mainline (pronounced meyn-lahyn)

(1) A slang term for the intravenous (injected directly into a vein as opposed to subcutaneous (skin popping)) use of injectable drugs (historically associated most with opium and its derivatives, especially heroin);  a principal or prominent vein into which a drug can be injected.

(2) To use, enjoy or imbibe something without restriction.

(3) The normal, established, or widely accepted position; major (a synonym of mainstream although without any of the the negative connotations mainstream has in recent years acquired.

(4) In rail transport (1) of or pertaining to the principal route or line of a railway or (2) of or pertaining to a surface railway as distinct from an underground, elevated or light rail one (originally as main line or main-line).

(5) In computing, to integrate (code etc) into the main repository for a software project, rather than separate forks.

(6) In civil aviation, an airline's main operating unit, as opposed to codeshares or regional subsidiaries (by extension from the railroad use).

(7) As Mainlinie (line of the Maine), a (historical and political) boundary between northern and southern Germany, roughly following the River Main.

(8) In chess, of a sequence of opening moves, the principal, most important, or most often played variation of such (ie the "main line", the orthodox sequence of opening moves considered to be "best play").

(9) In foodie slang, voraciously to consume.

(10) In longline fishing, the central line to which the branch lines with baits are attached.

(11) In plumbing, the pipeline carrying wastewater to the public drains or a septic tank.

(12) In the US and Australia, related but different models of Ford cars sold during the 1950s.

1841 (1933-1934 as applied to injectable drugs): All senses of mainline (sometimes variously as main-line or with initial capital) are Americanisms and a compound of main + line.  Main is from the Middle English mayn, main, maine, mæin & meyn, from main (noun) and related to the Old English mægen (strong, main, principal) and the Old Norse megn & megenn (strong, main).  It was cognate with Old High German megīn (strong, mighty) from which Modern German gained Möge & Vermögen (power, wealth) and akin to the Old English magan (to be able to).  Line is from the Middle English line & lyne, from Old English līne (line, cable, rope, hawser, series, row, rule, direction) from the Proto-Germanic līnǭ (line, rope, flaxen cord, thread) from the Proto-Germanic līną (flax, linen), from the primitive Indo-European līno (flax).  Influenced in Middle English by the Middle French ligne (line), from Latin linea, it was cognate with the Scots line (line), the North Frisian liin (line), the West Frisian line (line), the Dutch lijn (rope, cord), the German Leine (line, rope), the Danish line (rope, cord), the Swedish lina (line, rope, wire) and the Icelandic lína (line). It was related also to Dutch lijn (flax), the German Lein (flax, linen), the Gothic lein (linen, cloth), the Latin linea (linen, thread, string, line) & linum (flax, thread, linen, cable), the Ancient Greek λίνον (línon) (flax, linen, thread, garment), the Old Church Slavonic линъ (linŭ) (flax), the Russian лён (ljon) (flax), the Lithuanian linai (flax) and the Irish līn (lion) (flax).  The oldest sense of the word is "rope, cord, thread"; from this the senses "path" & "continuous mark" were derived.  Mainline is a noun in the sense of railways and a verb (used without object) if injecting drugs; those doing the latter known, inter alia, as "mainers" or "mainliners", the mainlined not infrequently ending up on a pathologist's autopsy table.  Mainline is a noun, verb & adjective, mainliner is a noun and mainlinging & mainlined are verbs; the noun plural is mainlines.

Basic motoring: 1952 Ford Mainline Business Coupe (with after-market whitewall tyres & sun visor, neither of which were standard equipment).

Ford in the US produced the Mainline between 1952-1956.  It was the base-model of its three tier offering (Ford at that time in the US producing a single range of passenger cars), the more highly specified models being the Customline and premium-level Crestline.  The name was dropped for 1957 when the layers in the range was expanded to four (Custom, Custom 300, Fairlane & Fairlane 500) although this had nothing to do with the association of “mainline” with injecting drug users; while that connection had existed since 1933, not until the 1960s did it in that sense come into general use.  In the US, the Mainline was offered as a sedan with two (informally dubbed "Tudor") or four doors (Fordor), a business coupe (the two-door sedan with no rear seat, a configuration aimed at the “business traveller” who travelled alone and valued additional storage space) and (between 1952-1954) a two-door a station wagon (called Ranch Wagon); convertibles were restricted to the more expensive lines.  A classic “stripper” (ie “stripped” of much trim and non-essential accessories so able to be sold at a lower price), as a consumer level product the Mainline was rather obscure, often mentioned only in the small print in catalogues and brochures and rarely afforded the honor of a photograph.  That was because, in an era of rising prosperity, it really wasn’t photogenic, the exterior lacking much of the chrome adorning the Customline & Crestline (although Studebaker would would later go further down the austerity path with its “Scotsman” models) while the interiors drably were utilitarian, rubber matting on the floor rather than carpet.  One quirk of production-line meant the Mainline did retain the extravagance of a chrome hood emblem, the cost of a separate run of hoods without the screw-holes higher than that of the emblem and the minute or so of labor required for the fitment.  Mercedes-Benz later (and belatedly) discovered similar math when some chrome trim was omitted from the tail-fins on the lower cost versions of its Heckflosse range (1959-1968), the labor required to hand-finish the metal a more expensive process than fitting the part and its fitting.  The Mainline's equipment levels were similarly spartan, only the driver's side fitted with a sun visor while passengers were denied armrests and unless paying extra to the dealer, no cigarette lighter was included, a painted metal plug (ancestor of the later “switch blanks) covering the hole in the dashboard.  An ashtray was however included and, in a sign of the times, the cigarette lighter was a popular option.

1956 Ford Mainline "Coupé Utility" (Australia).

Australia was a smaller market and neither the three trim options nor all the body styles were offered, sales between 1952-1959 restricted to the four-door Customline (some station wagons were imported in fully-built form) and a locally developed “coupé utility”, created by adding a rear section in the style of a light pickup truck.  A feature of the Australian market since the 1930s, in the Australian way, the six syllable “coupé utility” quickly was shortened to “ute”, remaining a profitable market sector until motor vehicle production in the country ceased in 2017.  The coupé utility used the Mainline name and was built on the station wagon chassis with the addition of the convertible’s X-member to permit a higher load carrying capacity, a further quirk being the Australian Fords continued until 1954 to use the old flathead V8 (introduced in 1932 not in the US used in passenger cars after 1953), the new overhead valve (OHV) Y-Block V8 not introduced until 1955.  The Mainline remained in the Australian line-up until 1959 when the Fairlane replaced the Customline but Ford didn’t develop a coupé utility version of the new car, the body style instead offered on the compact platform (standard-size in Australian terms) when the Falcon (1960-2016) entered local production.  The Australian ute proved influential across the Pacific, Ford in the US offering several generations of Ranchero (1957-1979), the success of which encouraged Chevrolet to adopt the same concept, an El Camino model sold between 1959-1960 and 1964-1987.

Basic military motoring: 1952 Ford Mainline, the teddy bear in sailor suit an alusion to this car once being USN (US Navy) staff car 07-141953.

GM (General Motors) and Chrysler of course also had “stripper” models in their ranges the cheapest and most basic being those offered respectively by Chevrolet and Plymouth but the concept was in every case became corporation-wide although to speak of the cheapest Cadillacs as “strippers” was misleading and it’s better to refer to them as “selectively de-frilled” (something distinct from the more general “de-contenting ” strategy GM would begin in the late 1960s).  For sociological reasons, the “cheapest Cadillac” once had real appeal because in the US it was for decades the ultimate “aspirational brand” appealing very much to those who really couldn’t afford one; the extent of Cadillac purchasing by the “lower middle class” was once of the markers of the “American dream” although caution did need to be exercised: tick to many of the option boxes for a “stripper” Cadillac Calais and the invoice price began to overlap with that of the even more aspirational DeVille.  While the Mainline may not much have been seen in the brochures, in local newspaper advertising, frequently one would appear, usually with its temptingly low price in large bold type (often with an exclamation mark).  That price typically was between 15-20% less than what buyers typically paid for a Customline or Crestline (a “new Ford” in the public imagination) but the advertising copy in the newspaper tended not to dwell on details and in the pre-internet age, the sight of $1,389! was enough to entice buyers to visit the showroom.  Of course, once there they would discover a Mainline business coupe wasn’t all that appealing and the salesman would agree, showing them the better value offered by a two-door Customline sedan at $1,570.  Dealerships really didn’t want to see too many Mainlines because the profit margins were slim compared to the more expensive Fords although the most skilled salesmen (they were then all men) could “add a little fat” by “up-selling” the odd accessory (mudflaps, whitewall tyres, the cigarette lighter etc).

Stripper at speed: 1956 NASCAR (National Association for Stock Car Auto Racing) Ford Mainline, Southern 500, Darlington Raceway, South Carolina, USA.

Darlington was known for the infamous “Darlington stripe”, left on the right side of the cars because the angle of the track made it challenging for drivers to maintain a competitive speed without sometimes “kissing the wall” at turns three & four.  The drivers called the concept “fender prints” (an allusion to the various shades of paint the circulating cars left on an oval’s wall) but Darlington was especially honoured with the notorious “Darlington stripe” because, over the course of a race, multiple “scrapes” were inevitable.  The start-finish line on the unusual egg-shaped track was in 1997 moved so the critical section now starts at turn one and although the guard rails are now less hazardous, the Darlington stripe remains something of a NASCAR rite of passage. 

The sales tactic must have worked because relatively few private buyers chose Mainlines, despite a saving of $180-odd being in 1952 a compelling argument (the method of calculation vary but US$180 expressed in 2026 purchasing power would be over US$2,000).  That was however just side-business for the Mainline.  The real reason the industry built strippers was for fleet sales to corporations and government instrumentalities such as the military, police forces, fire departments and such.  While a saving of $180 might be enough to persuade a few frugal customers to forgo carpets and armrests, for purchasing managers buying by the dozen (or even the thousand), the lower unit-cost multiplied into a lot of money and of course, at those volumes, further discounts were applied.  The other minor career of the stripper came on race tracks or drag strips, buyers for that purpose wanting the cheapest, lightest platform; for them armrests and cigarette lighters were just pointless excess weight and, wherever possible, they undertook further “striping”, discarding anything not absolutely essential.  For them, the Mainline was a good starting-point.

Map of southern England's Great Western Main Line. 

Main Line had since 1841 been used generally to mean "principal line of a railway" and the Main Line was once Philadelphia's most desired suburban district.  Once just another rural hamlet, in the 1870s & 1880s it was transformed by the Pennsylvania Railroad Company that built expensive housing developments and hotels, hence the association of "Main Line" with the meaning "affluent area of residence", noted by 1917 and eventually used in that sense without capital letters and as the unhyphenated "mainline".  Essentially creating a fashionable suburb, the Railroad's urban development project linked Philadelphia to Paoli along the Paoli Local train-line via the station stops Overbrook, Merion, Narberth, Wynnewood, Ardmore, Haverford & Bryn Mawr.  Eventually, the Main Line connected Philadelphia with Pittsburgh via Harrisburg but was later split into two lines, Amtrak's Philadelphia to Harrisburg Main Line and the Norfolk Southern Railway's Pittsburgh Line.

A depiction of Lindsay Lohan's "mainlines" (digitally altered image, left), an illustrative diagram of an urban light-rail system showing the mainlines (thick lines) and branch lines (thin lines) (centre) and a human's entire blood circulatory system, created from a corpse donated (by the subject) for the purpose (right).  The technique used (right) is called “vascular corrosion casting”, achieved by replacing the blood in arteries, veins & capillaries with a specially mixed resin; after the resin has set and cured, all other tissue is dissolved in a highly alkaline chemical (typically sodium hydroxide).  To ensure the resin remains, it needs to be of a specific viscosity, with a chemical composition a-reactive to both natural tissue and the chemical used in the dissolution process.

The original slang among drug users, dating from 1933, was "mainline" the noun, referring the principal or prominent vein into which a drug was most effective if injected.  The verb in the sense of "inject (drugs) intravenously" was noted the following year although the associated verb "mainlining" didn't enter regular use until the mid-1960s and the unfortunate companion verb "mainlined" (dead from a drug overdose) soon followed, referred to in that sense by Mimi Fariña (1945–2001) in the song In the Quiet Morning (1970), recorded by Joan Baez (b 1941) after the messy, drug-related death of singer Janis Joplin (1943–1970).  Joplin's death, although technically caused by an impact injury, happened under the influence of heroin.  Counterintuitively, despite injecting drug-use being so obviously associated with veins and arteries, it seems it was the imagery of main and secondary railway lines rather than the human vascular system (also called the circulatory system) that prompted the simile of mainline in drug-related slang.  It was probably because of the general familiarity with the word being used to describe train tracks and the often-seen graphical representation of them at stations and in carriages.  Even in medicine, mainline appears hardly used by physicians when speaking of arteries, veins or capillaries, specific anatomical names (femoral artery, jugular vein etc preferred), the term apparently not useful within the profession because of the need for precision when discussing such things although it may be handy for pathologists who work mostly "in retrospect".  However, there are citations where physicians and neurologists have adopted a similar metaphor (based perhaps on the "rabbit warrens" that are hospitals) to  explain the process of the brain using the “back passages” to restore blood-flow to areas affected by a stroke which has blocked the “main passage”, again drawing on the idea of primary and secondary lines.

In the Quiet Morning (1970) by Mimi Farina © Universal Music Publishing Group, recorded by Joan Baez.  

In the quiet morning, there was much despair

And in the hours that followed, no one could repair

That poor girl, tossed by the tides of misfortune

Barely here to tell her tale, rolled in on a sea of disaster

Rolled out on a mainline rail

 

She once walked tight at my side, I'm sure she walked by you

Her striding steps could not deny, torment from a child who knew

 

That in the quiet morning, there would be despair

And in the hours that followed, no one could repair

That poor girl, she cried out her song so loud

It was heard the whole world round, a symphony of violence

The great southwest unbound

 

La la la la la la la

La la la la la la la

La la la la la la la la la

La la la la, la la la

 

In the quiet morning, there was much despair

And in the hours that followed, no one could repair

That poor girl, tossed by the tides of misfortune

Barely here to tell her tale, rolled in on a sea of disaster

Rolled out on a mainline rail

 

La la la la la la la

La la la la la la la

La la la la la la la la la

La la la la, la la la

Limelight

Limelight (produced lahym-lahyt)

(1) In the lighting systems of live theatre, prior to the use of electricity, a lighting unit for spot-lighting the front of the stage, producing illumination by means of a flame of mixed gases directed at a cylinder of lime and having a special lens for concentrating the light in a strong beam.

(2) The light produced by such a unit (and subsequently by lights using other technology.

(3) In theatre slang (1) a lighting unit (also clipped to “limes”), especially a spotlight & (2) by extension, attention, notice, a starring or central role, present fame (source of the general use of the word).

(4) The centre of attention, interest, observation, or notoriety.

(5) As “limelight dress”, a designed to make the wearer the “centre of attention”.  Of late, “limelight” has been applied also in high street fashion to refer to garments made with neon-like fabrics which resemble a color under a bright light.

1826:  The construct was lime + light.  Lime (in this context) was from the Middle English lyme, lym & lime, from the Old English līm, from the Proto-Germanic līmaz, from the primitive Indo-European sley- (smooth; slick; sticky; slimy).  It was cognate with the Saterland Frisian Liem (glue), the Dutch lijm, the German Leim (glue), the Danish lim (from the Old Norse lím) and the Latin limus (mud).  In chemistry, the word described any inorganic material containing calcium (usually calcium oxide (quicklime) or calcium hydroxide (slaked lime).  In literary or poetic use, it was used of any gluey or adhesive substance, usually in the sense of “something which traps or captures someone” and sometimes as a synonym for birdlime.  It was used as a verb to mean (1) to apply to some surface a coasting of calcium hydroxide or calcium oxide (lime) & (2) to smear with birdlime or apply limewash.

Lime (chemical formula: CaO) is composed primarily of calcium oxides and hydroxides (typically calcium oxide and/or calcium hydroxide) and the origin of the word lies in its early use as building mortar (because of its qualities of sticking or adhering).  It was the interaction of lime with other substances which lent the concrete mixed in Ancient Rome (known to engineers as “Roman concrete”) unique properties that made it remarkably durable and long-lasting (though despite the legend, it was no more “sticky” that other concrete using the same quantity of lime).  A critical ingredient in Roman concrete was a type of volcanic ash called pozzolana (abundant in the environs of Rome) which was mixed with lime and small rocks or rubble to create a paste that could be molded into various shapes and sizes.  What created uniqueness was the chemical reaction between pozzolana and lime when the mix was exposed to water, this creating a mineral called calcium silicate hydrate, the source of Roman concrete’s durability and strength.  Unusually, it was able to harden underwater and for centuries resist the effects of saltwater (indeed such exposure triggered a kind of “self repair” reaction), making it ideal for building structures like harbors and aqueducts and, in a happy coincidence, the easy accessibility of pozzolana meant Roman concrete could be produced at a lower cost than other building materials.  Engineers note the chemistry but maintain the slang “sticky concrete” remains appropriate because its durability meant the stuff is still “sticking around”, centuries after other forms of concrete have crumbled to dust. 

Light (in this context) was from the Middle English light, liht, leoht, lighte, lyght, & lyghte, from the Old English lēoht, from the Proto-West Germanic leuht, from the Proto-Germanic leuhtą, from the primitive Indo-European lewktom, from the root lewk- (light).  It was cognate with the Scots licht (light), the West Frisian ljocht (light), the Dutch licht (light), the Low German licht (light) and the German Licht (light) and related also to the Swedish ljus (light), the Icelandic ljós (light), the Latin lūx (light), the Russian луч (luč) (beam of light), the Armenian լույս (luys) (light), the Ancient Greek λευκός (leukós) (white) and the Persian رُخش‎ (roxš).  The early uses (in this context) all were related to the electromagnetic radiation in the spectrum visible to the human eye (ie what we still commonly call “light”).  Typically, the human eye can detect radiation in a wavelength range around 400 to 750 nanometres and as scientific understanding evolved, the shorter and longer (ultraviolet light and infrared light) wavelengths, although not visible, were also labeled “light” because, as a matter of physics, they are on the spectrum and whether or not they were visible to the naked eye was not relevant.  “Light” in the sense of illumination was literal but the word was also productive in figurative and idiomatic generation (the “Enlightenment”; “leading light”; “negative light”; “throw a little light on the problem”; “bring to light”; “light the way” etc).  Limelight is a noun & verb, limelighting is a verb, limelighted & limelit are adjectives and limelighter is a noun; the noun plural is limelights.

Three exemplars of the art. 

The term “limelight dress” was coined to describe a garment designed to attract the eye (or a photographer's lens), making the wearing the “centre of attention” in the manner of a stage performer in the limelight: Rita Ora (b 1990, left), Ariel Winter (b 1998, centre) and Lindsay Lohan (b 1986, right) illustrate the idea; while there are often commonalities in the way designers do these things, there are many variants.  It has in recent decades become less easy to achieve the “limelight dress effect” because of the mainstreaming of the “nude dress” and it may be that a more modest cut, if well executed, might work better for clickbait purposes, just because of the novelty.  Rita Ora with some aplomb wore the dramatic gown designed by Donna Karan (b 1948) at the 2014 MTV Video Music Awards in 2014 and while it was much admired, a similar creation in the same scarlet by Alexandre Vauthier (b 1971) Couture created a sensation when worn by Bella Hadid (b 1996) at the 2016 Cannes Film Festival.  Perhaps the ultimate “limelight dress”, it remains still probably the dress of twenty-first century.     

In the limelight: In a marquisette gown, Marilyn Monroe (1926–1962) sang Happy Birthday Mr President to John Kennedy (JFK, 1917–1963; POTUS 1961-1963) at a Democratic Party fundraiser at New York's Madison Square Garden on 19 May, 1962, ten days before his actual birthday.  Within three months, she would be dead.

The dress became one of the best-known garments of the Marilyn Monroe cult and it re-appeared at the 2020 Met Gala in New York City, worn by Kim Kardashian (b 1980) complete with blonde hair for the occasion.  It couldn’t be expected to cause quite the same stir as sixty years earlier because, cut from a sheer, silk marquisette that almost exactly matched Ms Monroe’s skin-tone, the 2,500 hand-sewn rhinestones intricately were positioned to respond to the particular gait she chose that evening and, under the limelight in the darkened amphitheatre, as she moved, the crystals sparkled and the dress came alive.  It was quite a design.  In the hard, white light of the Met Gala’s red carpet, it couldn’t be expected to work the magic it did all those years ago; not shimmering in the darkness, it seemed lifeless and perhaps it would have benefited from the contrast her lustrous natural hair would have lent but Ms Kardashian wore it well, attracting admiration (and criticism from the usual suspects) too for the reasonable achievement of in three weeks shedding a reputed 16 lbs (7¼ kg) to ensure a (close to) comfortable fit.

Limelight was the common name for the Drummond light (or calcium light), a lamp of then unprecedented luminosity created by the burning of calcium oxide (lime).  The process of creating light by burning lime augment by oxygen & hydrogen had been invented in the early 1920s and, generating an intense white light, it was developed in 1925 for use in mining and surveying by Scottish army engineer Captain Thomas Drummond (1797-1840) and soon adopted for lighthouses although it became famous from the use in live theatre where directional spot-lights were used to illuminate the principal actors on stage and although the technology has moved on, in theatre, film & television production, catwalks etc, “limelight” is still often used to describe both the physical lighting equipment and the effect produced.  In popular entertainment, limelight came into use in the UK in the mid-1830s and, cheap to produce and easily exported, were soon in use around the world, even the military finding them useful, the army to assist the targeting of artillery (an early example of applying technology to fire-control systems) and the navy found they were vastly more effective than any other spotlight.  Limelights remained in widespread use until replaced by electric devices in the late nineteenth century but in some far-flung outposts of the British Empire, they were still in use even after World War II (1939-1945).

Lindsay Lohan (1) "in the limelight", on stage with Duran Duran, Barclays Center in New York, April 2016 (left) and (2) "in the glare", arriving at LA Superior Court, Los Angeles, February 2011 (right) during her "troubled Hollywood starlet" phase.  

Although "glare" isn't vested with quite the cachet of "limelight", Ms Lohan illustrated how the catwalk was but a state of mind, pairing a white bandage dress (it’s not clear if wearing the color the Bible associates with purity influenced the judge but channelling the fashion choice of the 24 elders in Revelation 4:4 and the Roman Catholic pontiff may have helped) with a pair of Chanel 5182 sunglasses.  Speculatively, it’s at least possible a strut under the limelight on the catwalk wouldn’t have had the same simulative commercial effect as the stroll to a hearing, the the US$575 Glavis Albino dress from Kimberly Ovitz's (b 1983) pre-fall collection selling-out worldwide that very day.

New York Post, 11 February, 2011: Rupert Murdoch's (b 1931) editors always have a feeling for a good headline.  On X (then known as Twitter), Ms Lohan observed of the coverage: “What I wear to court shouldn't be front page news.  It’s just absurd.”  However, as a studious student of the modern media, she would have understood the place of absurdity in tabloid journalism and doubtlessly accepted it was best to work with the world as it is than worry too much about how it ought to be.

From the idea of the character on stage being highlighted by the limelight came the figurative use of the phrase “in the limelight” (noted since 1877) to refer to anyone on whom attention is focused.  From this evolved the related and self-explanatory phrases “steal the limelight”, “bask in the limelight” & “hog the limelight”, all from the world of theatre but later adopted as required just about anywhere (sport, corporate life etc).  “In the limelight” tends to be used only positively; those who are the focus of attention for reasons such as being accused of committing crimes or some transgression which might lead to cancellation are usually said to be “in the glare”.

1970 Plymouth Hemi 'Cuda in Limelight (left) and 2023 Dodge Challenger SRT Hellcat Redeye Jailbreak in Sublime (right).  Although today much prized, Chrysler's E-body pony cars (Plymouth Barracuda (& 'Cuda) and Dodge Challenger (1970-1974) were a financial disaster but, as Dodge's (2008-2023) revival proved, the styling was spot-on.   

Like other US car manufacturers in the strange, cultural twilight zone that was the dying days of the Johnson administration (Lyndon Johnson (LBJ, 1908–1973; VPOTUS 1961-1963 & POTUS 1963-1969)) and the first term of Richard Nixon (1913-1994; US VPOTUS 1953-1961 & POTUS 1969-1974), Chrysler had some history in the coining of fanciful names for colors dating from the psychedelic era.  What came from the once staid corporation included “Plum Crazy”, “In-Violet”, “Tor Red”, “Limelight”, “Sub Lime”, “Sassy Grass”, “Panther Pink”, “Moulin Rouge”, “Top Banana”, “Lemon Twist” & “Citron Yella”.  Although it may be an industry myth, the story told is that “Plum Crazy” & “In-Violet” (lurid shades of purple) were late additions because the killjoy board refused to sign-off on “Statutory Grape”.  Plymouth labelled their lime green “Limelight” while Dodge used “Sub Lime”.  The acid-themed shades so associated with the era vanished from the color charts in the early-1970s, not because of changing tastes but in response to environmental & public health legislation which banned the use of lead in automotive paints; without the additive, production of the bright colours was prohibitively expensive.  Advances in chemistry meant that by the twenty-first century, the look could again be achieved without the addition of lead so Dodge revived psychedelia for a new generation although “Sub Lime” became “Sublime”.  There was however, still a price to be paid, the new, environmentally less lethal, “Sublime”, “Red Octane”, “Sinamon Stick” and “Go Mango” all costing an additional US$395 while the less vivid shades listed at US$95.